


If things went differently.

by Ennvui



Category: Kill Your Darlings (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ennvui/pseuds/Ennvui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship that could have bloomed between Lucien and Allen, if things went a little differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If things went differently.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! I had an itch to write after seeing Kill Your Darlings, and now this is the first story I've published, ever!
> 
> I wanted to portray what could have happened if the things we witnessed between Lucien and Allen happened a little differently. We saw Allen hallucinate an intimate scene in Lucien's dorm, so the title of this chapter is called "Not a Hallucination". You'll see!
> 
> I'm not sure if this little thing will turn into a story with multiple chapters, but I do have some more ideas already. We'll see where it leads.
> 
> Enjoy!

_“The rose that scents the summer air_

_grows from my beloved's hair...”_

Raindrops splattered against the large, ornate windows of the dorm room as Lucien Carr read the small typewriting font, the poem Allen Ginsberg had concocted. Allen was pacing back and forth as Lucien read aloud, biting the corners of his cheeks and bottom lip as he could pinpoint each time Lucien came across a line he didn't like-- which happened to be many of them. A mocking tone spilled from the blonde's wine stained lips as he decided he had had enough of Allen's poor attempt at poetry, stopping in between lines and carelessly holding the file filled with the crap Allen had come up with. Allen had seemed so reliable and full of ideas during the beginning of their “revolution”, even coming up with the name _The New Vision_ , but now that his thoughts were on paper, Lucien could see just how stale they were. Now the hope he had in him was dwindling.

“Keep going, that's my sonnet for Steeves.” Allen interjected the blonde's thoughts, taking long, purposeful steps until he landed right beside the older boy, tapping the paper once or twice, but Lucien wasn't having any more of it, letting the gentle taps aid in dropping the file to the table.

“We _have_ the map. We _have_ the manifesto _..._ we need the _work_.” Lucien spat right back at his friend, taking a long sip of his drink that made his sharp, charmingly boyish features pull back into a sour sneer. Then he turned cold, disappointed, and Allen had to bear witness to the dejected look he was given, a look that the always upbeat Lucien never wore. Now Allen could never let him know that the beloved's hair he was writing about was Lucien's.

“I was wrong. Maybe you're not up for this after all...” The blonde muttered, never caring much if the bitterness of his words hurt someone, but they came back to bite him when Allen stormed off.

“Show me _your_ fucking map!”

 

Lucien choked on another sip of his drink, rushing to stand with only the slightest of a stumble, but Allen was already flipping through the papers on his desk, searching for writing that they both knew wasn't there-- only mindless scribbles and doodles littered the pages.

“Stop! No!” Lucien called in vain, approaching the bespectacled freshmen, who had become so much more confident since they first met. This wouldn't be the first smack he spoke, but it would be the first towards Lucien. “No! There's nothing here because David's not here to write it _for_ you!”

“It's-- complicated!” Lucien was drunk, furious, his hair in disarray as he blurted out the first thing to come to mind, but his mind was never clear after two bottles of red wine.

“I _love_ complicated.” Allen threw the blonde's words right back at him, much more sober than Lucien.

Now Lucien was shaking, turning to pace as his hand rubbed over his face, fingertips tingling from the alcohol in his system. He didn't like to talk about David, he would have much rather him drop off the face of the Earth, but a small part of him knew that if he did, he would miss him. But Allen clearly wanted to know, and another part of him, much bigger than the former, trusted Allen.

With a breath, he began, voice trembling in what he wasn't sure was agitation or fear of having private information being brought out of him.

“He is a professor, working as a janitor so he can be near his precious _Lu-Lu._ He is a goddamn fruit, who won't let me go.” Distaste filled his tone and his adam's apple bobbed as he suppressed the emotions lodged in his throat. He revealed as much history between them as he was willing to give, even the nickname he had been given by the man who was fourteen years older than him.

 

“A fruit.” Allen repeated, his tone was knowing as he stared down his friend; the vibrant boy who seemed so grim now, with dark circles under his eyes from too many late nights and alcohol and nicotine and who knows what else he was putting inside his body.

Allen could tell Lucien was hurting, he knew David was a sore subject. Allen so desperately wanted to comfort him from his past, but this type of hurt was not something so easily fixed, like a scrape or hurt feelings; It was something more deep rooted, something that a lovesick, insecure boy could not fix because he had been hurting for too long, and he wasn't even sure if Lucien wanted to be fixed.

Lucien wasn't sure either.

Now was not the time for comfort, because Allen could plainly see just how much loathing was on Lucien's face, his usually striking eyes looking so uncharacteristically lifeless now as he quietly uttered his next words, plum colored lips pursed.

“ _A queer_.”

  
A beat passed, where they said nothing and did nothing, other than hold eye contact. Lucien had a feeling from the beginning that Allen wasn't exactly straight; he had been around enough inexperienced and confused freshmen to know. He had seen the doe-eyed looks Allen would cast his way, and that only made his words all the more venomous, but he was too conceited to apologize. He was tired and his head was throbbing, yet his tongue longed for another sting-- he needed another drink.

Lucien broke eye contact first, squeezing his blue eyes shut in an attempt to alleviate the pounding in his skull. He wandered like clockwork towards his bed, where he sat down and took a sip of some mystery alcohol that had been sitting on the floor. The burn on his tongue was comforting, and it was almost empty, so he downed what was left in the glass. Allen followed right beside him, sitting closely, sometimes fearing Lucien was becoming a drunk-- or that he already was-- and that he would endanger himself in his own room.

“Then... let's.. let's get rid of him.” Allen said, his tone almost apologetic for bringing up David at all. Lucien heard Allen beside him, but his voice sounded muddled in his stuffy ears; he could feel the warmth of the alcohol settle in his stomach and add what felt like another couple pounds of weight into his limbs. Allen was looking at him, and when Lucien turned his head to return his gaze, his entire body followed, falling messily into the lap of his equally messy-haired friend.

Lucien had drunken enough for the both of them in one night, and Allen was petrified as he suddenly found himself holding Lucien's body for the first time. They had hugged before, as Lucien was very touchy, but he always had the upper hand in what he initiated-- Lucien always had control. Except around David, and now maybe Allen, too. Now, Allen had the reigns, he could feel the warmth radiating from Lucien course into his lap, up into his stomach where it scattered into restless butterflies.

“Right now I just need you to write us something beautiful...” Lucien mumbled into his knee, his warm hand trailing down his shin in his drunken, tired stupor. No matter how nasty or overbearing Lucien could be, little actions like this had Allen forgiving him and wanting more. Lucien could curse him out or call him as many names as he wanted, but as long as at the end of the day he slung his arm around his shoulders and flashed that beautiful white smile, Allen could never think ill of him.

The blonde boy couldn't possibly be comfortable, sprawled half off the bed and half on his lap, but as much as Allen wanted to tuck him in and give him some well deserved rest, he wanted him to stay on his lap even more, hoping maybe, just _maybe_ , he could fall asleep there and wake up too tired to care that he had spent the night; that they had ended up entangled.

 

“First thought best thought...”

Lucien whispered, and suddenly they weren't talking about poetry anymore.

Allen's mind hadn't been on poetry in a while, it was completely and utterly focused on the beautiful boy whose defenses had broken down, who proclaimed his love for firsts and beginnings. He felt a little too aware of Lucien's body; like the way his sweater and dress shirt had risen so slightly, showing a small sliver of pale skin above the waistband of his pants. The way his hand relaxed against his leg and his head lulled to a more comfortable position. The way his blonde hair looked so soft, so touchable, in perfect reach of where his hand was resting on his shoulder.

Timid, Allen reached out, splaying his fingers out and running them through the neatly cut hair presented in front of him, the blunt of his fingernails gently grazing his scalp. A pleased breath escaped Lucien, so faint that if Allen hadn't been paying attention, he would have completely missed it. He saw it as a cue to pull his hand away, in fear he had awoken him, but Lucien had already moved. His icy blue eyes stared up at the freshmen he had ensnared, unwavering, twisted into a confused and slightly offended expression.

Allen wanted to move, to apologize and be on his way back to his own room, but he had tensed and froze in place, his lingering hand brushing against Lucien's soft cheek. Seeing Lucien's face so close, so beautiful, so touchable, Allen found his fingers moving on their own, trailing down towards Lucien's plump lips. But he wasn't the only one watching the movement of his fingers-- Lucien's gaze had dropped, only momentarily, before he was staring up at the face of whom the offending hand belonged to. He looked confrontational, Allen thought, and he swallowed hard, trying to wet his suddenly dry mouth.

 

Lucien's mouth was not at all dry, Allen noted. It was warm and inviting, and it caused his breath to hitch as he watched his friend turn his head further, taking in the tip of his finger past his lips and brush the pad of his finger with his tongue. Allen was transfixed on him, but so anxious, unsure what to look at-- Lucien's lips, or his eyes that bore cold holes into him. He could feel his heart racing, but Lucien looked so calm.

Slowly, Lucien's lips that were still wrapped around Allen's finger spread into a smile, one that screamed that this was a joke; that he was getting exactly what he wanted out of Allen. With another breath that bordered on a moan, Lucien's eyes slipped closed, taking in a fraction more of Allen's finger into his mouth, and that was enough encouragement for Allen to follow-- gently moving his hand for Lucien to take more at his own pace. Allen watched with baited breath, not daring to move or make a sound that could interrupt what the blonde was doing with his mouth.

 

Just as the middle knuckle of his finger slipped into his mouth, Lucien sucked gently on the digit, which had Allen shuddering and swallowing loudly. “Lu...” Allen whispered, curious, confused, aroused, but Lucien moved before he could do or say anything more.

Lucien released Allen from his mouth, leaving it slick and cold in the air, and adjusted his position as best as he could with his foggy head, resting his cheek against the younger boy's thigh, facing away from him. A third breath escaped-- this one much deeper, more relaxed, one that indicated Lucien was intending to fall asleep, content on leaving Allen in an awkward position with no explanation.

A blush crept up to Allen's cheeks as he stared down at Lucien, left wondering what had just occurred, then to watch as the light of the candles caught the sheen of saliva, of Lucien, that still lingered on his finger.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So there you go! Let me know how you liked it, and if you have any comments, critique or ideas.


End file.
